


Chiralities: R-Side

by Counterpunch, redonthefly, RowanWould, theseerasures, ultranos, whisperwhisk



Category: Captain America (Movies), Frozen (2013), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1582190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Counterpunch/pseuds/Counterpunch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/redonthefly/pseuds/redonthefly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanWould/pseuds/RowanWould, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseerasures/pseuds/theseerasures, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultranos/pseuds/ultranos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperwhisk/pseuds/whisperwhisk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> "Where are we going?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>"The future." </em></p><p> </p><p>DIsney/Captain America fusion--a series of connected stories, following Elsa Rogers as she enlists, becomes Captain America, and shapes a world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. R-Side

**Author's Note:**

> by theseerasures.

_Chink_.

He kicks forward, the crampons on his shoes giving him traction on the ice. Then he swings the ax in his hand upward, and with another  _chink_  the blade digs in; only a centimeter, but it’s enough for him to lever himself upward.

Next, the ice screw: he takes it out of a side pouch, drives it into the surface. Only then does he let himself look up—still a long climb, but if he squints he thinks he can see the endpoint.

Kristoff smiles ruefully.  _Only about a thousand more to go_.

He kicks forward again, but frowns as something flashes out of the corner of his eye—over there, isn’t that—

"On your left!"

A figure in blue jogs past him— _jogs_ , like this is solid ground instead of 60 meters of icy vertical pitch.

"What," Kristoff says.

* * *

 

He finally finishes the climb half an hour later, and is sprawled out on a snow pile catching his breath when the same figure pops in over the edge. “Oh,” she says, “I thought I’d get you a fourth time.”

"Yeah, you’re a disgrace," Kristoff replies, rolling eyes. "Why don’t you do another run up the whole mountain to make up for that?" He frowns when she doesn’t respond. "Did you just? Don’t do another run. It’s called ice  _climbing_ , y’know—you can run on any boring flat surface.”

"I like the incline," she says, smiling, "Elsa Rogers."

"Yeah, I kind of figured," he snorts, grabbing her outstretched hand so he can pull himself up. "Kristoff Bjorgman. Was it weird, coming back? With the ice, and the…" he gestures lamely at…well, her. "Ice."

"It takes some getting used to," she says, and turns away. "It was nice meeting you, Kristoff."

Kristoff swallows. It’s really not his place, but—it’s  _Captain America_ , right, and there’s something distant about the way she smiles that makes his chest hurt in a way that has nothing to do with the thinness of the air. ”It’s the pins and needles, right?”

She turns around again. “What’s that?”

"I was in 58th, Pararescue? A lot of ops had to be done at night, in the cold—not like that’d affect you, obviously—but sometimes. The air gets tight, and you just  _move_. I come home, and…”

"It’s warm, and your arms and legs feel like they keep falling asleep," she finishes. "Pararescue? How long?"

"Two tours. I work at the VA in the city now."

"And you…what? Ice climb on your days off?"

He rubs the back of his neck, feeling almost embarrassed. “I like the incline, I guess.”

See, the way that she smiles at him  _now_ —that suits her better, and he grins back. “You miss the good old days?”

"Well," she makes a show of looking around, and shrugs. "Things aren’t so bad—the food’s improved, and the Internet’s been a lifesaver. I’ve been reading that a lot lately, just trying to catch up." _  
_

_What the hell,_  Kristoff thinks. “Have you seen  _Magnificent Seven_  yet? Great western, based on a Japanese movie—or, or well,  _you_  probably wouldn’t like something that’s from—”

"I’ll put it on the list," she says, giving him another smile and actually pulling out a notebook before they’re both distracted the sound of helicopter blades. Suddenly she looks mortified. "Oh, he  _didn’t_.”

Kristoff opens his mouth to ask, but a moment later an unmarked chopper lands a few feet away from them, and a man strolls out, waving casually. “Hey, guys—can you point me in the direction of the closest glacier? I’m here to pick up something from the Ice Age.”

"That’s still funny, Eugene." Elsa says. She flashes Kristoff an apologetic grimace. "Duty calls, I guess—even I can’t run everywhere."

"Good thing, or we’d be out of a job," the guy with her says, and then gives Kristoff a once-over. "Well,  _hey_.”

Kristoff flushes. “Hi.”

"Thanks for the climb, Kristoff," Elsa says, giving him a quick wave before leaving to—do her thing, he supposes. Save the world.

He waves back until after the helicopter disappears completely into the clouds.


	2. In the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by RowanWould.

Elsa grabbed for her shield, and raised it just in time to block the next assault.

But her shield was the lid from a trashcan, and her arms were like jelly, so all that happened was that she fell hard to the ground, feeling only slightly less pain than if she’d gone without it.

It was worth it though, she mused, gingerly pushing herself back to her feet, to see the pained expression on this Duke guy’s face as he hopped around like a mad man, holding tightly the foot he’d kicked at her with.

“Ack, my toe!” he howled, spinning in circles and flying everywhere around the alley, not even looking where he was going with his eyes screwed shut. “You broke it, you stupid little monster!”

Elsa inwardly laughed, outwardly exhaled quietly around the pain, quick and mirthless, as she felt her old companion, the chill that sometimes crept into the middle of her chest, spread up her arms and down her legs, numbing the pain. She liked the cold when it came. It gave her strength, or at least the illusion of it. Elsa always felt that singular confidence when she had an opponent, someone to do battle with; growing up she’d gotten that feeling mainly from the many chess games she’d played with her parents. There had never been any stakes then, just the game, their company and the back-and-forth across the board.

There were stakes now though. This was the other kind of sparring she’d done a lot of growing up. She figured it was fitting that actual physical fighting, something that could made her feel… solid, in a way, was also what she was the absolute worst at.

 _Well_ , she thought glumly, _close to_.

A sudden sharp ache bloomed in her left side, evidence of the initial blow that had landed on her as she’d exited the Recruitment office, and she doubled over wincing, clutching at her middle. So she didn’t see that Duke had recovered enough from his last attack to concentrate on her again until she felt a tug on the trashcan lid and utter agony in her brittle fingers as it was torn from her grasp. She pulled both her hands to her, gently clasping the injured one in the other as she sagged against the alley wall.

But just for a moment.

Elsa looked up and glared daggers at Duke as he stood facing her across the back street, still holding her shield loosely (she briefly thought it odd thinking of it as hers, and as a shield, for all the good it had done her here) and pointing his finger at her.

“I think,” he began loudly, still sounding quite pained and angry, and leaning more on one foot than the other. “That that is quite enough of that. Maybe next time, you’ll know to keep your nose out of other people’s business.” And with that, he turned to limp out of the alley.

“And maybe I can get back to teaching that other lady some respect as well,” he muttered as he went.

Elsa’s annoyance with the man quickly turned to panic with those words. He was just going to go right back in there, right back to torturing that poor woman over nothing? She couldn’t let that happen, she had to stop him.

“Hey!” she yelled, pushing off from the wall and stumbling to follow him. “Where you going? I could do this all day!”

Duke spun around, eyes flaring and little moustache twitching, and Elsa could tell she’d gotten the reaction she’d been hoping for. She just wished it wasn’t going to hurt so much. She braced herself as he started making his way back towards her and watched as he glanced down at the trashcan lid, probably deciding whether to toss it or keep it, and…

Wait, why was he stopping?

He had come to a stand-still halfway to her, and was staring in confusion down at the metal lid he held in his hand. “What the…” he whispered.

Elsa followed his gaze down and her eyes widened, the panic she’d felt a moment ago returning 10-fold as she spotted what he’d seen.

A thin layer of frost, encircling the handle. Elsa’s frost.


	3. Footprints in the Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by ultranos.

If she thought about it, Elsa still wasn’t sure what possessed Dr. Erskine to stamp her enlistment form. Not that she wasn’t grateful. But, being honest with herself, she wasn’t Anna. Anna was bright and strong and always had the little guy’s back. Elsa? Elsa had been born with the winter inside her.

She was born early, small and fragile and far, far colder than she should have been. The doctors weren’t sure she would even survive the night. But she did, despite all her health problems that left her small and skinny and fragile. And since she was being honest with herself, she probably wouldn’t have gotten very far without Anna, especially after their parents died.

Anna who was always there to pull her out of whatever scraps she’d thrown herself into. Who’d grin and shake her head at her older sister, exasperated by how many times Elsa refused to back down, despite how often it made her bleed. To be honest, it was Anna who’d taught her that, and when she pointed it out, Anna would huff a laugh and shake her head more and have her back.

But Anna’s overseas, in a warzone, and Elsa? Well, she’s currently in basic, surrounded by people at least twice her size who think it’s great fun to push the little guy around. Every time it happens, she has to clench her teeth and take calming breaths to keep the ice inside. Dr. Erskine gave her a chance, and she’s not about to blow it because she can’t keep her powers under control.

And that’s when the grenade comes sailing into the middle of the squad.

Elsa moves without thinking. She dives at the grenade, wrapping herself around it, and bracing herself. She glances up, sees Agent Carter running towards her and shouts, “No! Stay back!” Because if someone has to die her, it’s going to be her.

Seconds tick by and nothing happens. Elsa opens her eyes and blinks. The grenade is a dud. She looks up, and sees Dr. Erskine, Agent Carter, and the Colonel staring at her in shock. She looks down, and feels the world crumble beneath her.

The grenade is encased in ice.

* * *

"Why me?"

She’s sitting on her bed in the empty barracks. Everyone else left for some other part of the SSR or to the front lines, and she’s still here. Despite being female and skinny and frail and short and  _having random ice powers_ , they picked her. Elsa can’t wrap her head around  _why_.

"Because we’ve tried big, strong men and it hasn’t worked out. So maybe we try the little guy," says Dr. Erskine as he pours schnapps into the two glasses.

Elsa can see the logic, but the skepticism must still show in her face. “I don’t think being able to shoot  _ice_  from my hands makes me ‘the little guy’.”

He looks at her over his glasses. “Have you looked in the mirror, my dear? ‘Big’ is not an adjective I would use. The ice is a minor quirk.” He sighs and leans back. “Strong men always always would know what it meant to be strong. But a weaker person, a clever person, a  _good_ person…she’s strong in different ways. Ways that matter more. And she’ll never forget what it felt like to be weak. She’ll have what a strong man might lack.”

"What’s that?"

"Compassion. Restraint. Integrity." Dr. Erskine reaches over and pokes her in the forehead. "You’re a good person, Elsa. You have a good heart. And that’s why I picked you."


	4. Arlington

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by Counterpunch.

Elsa and Anna grew up so close, they did everything 1-2-3 together, thick as thieves. They were playing, Elsa remembers years later, they were playing outside for too long. “One more snowman,” Anna begs, and they do, because Elsa cannot deny her sister anything, let alone such small things. But long after they’ve gone back indoors, the cold settles into Elsa and does not let go.

It makes her bones brittle and her lungs sharp and each breath tickles like snow and burns like ice. The fever holds her for weeks. Winter grips Elsa and they’re worried it may spread, so she’s placed in her own room to make sure it doesn’t find Anna, too. Eventually the fever fades but Elsa is still weak and sickly, and she spends much of her childhood watching Anna grow up outside her window.

Elsa’s fingers twitch when Anna is called up because she is helpless, so helpless to protect her. To fight alongside her. To shield her from the horrible things like a big sister should.

And then- an opportunity, an experimental procedure - there are risks, they said, but she’ll take it. She’ll do whatever she has to do to get to Anna; to stand next to her. Beside her. With her. To protect her. Shield her from the horrible things like a big sister should.

So they brought the winter back, an icy blue serum this time - the cold that destroyed her body as a child infuses her with strength as an adult. She would wield this winter, control it, the way it had once done to her.

She could build snowmen again.

She’s on the field, finally.

Each mile closer to Anna.

Elsa does not let things like enemy lines, ‘captured, and ‘presumed dead’ stop her. She’s there, on the table. Elsa does not remember Anna being so small. Elsa’s fingers struggle numbly with the straps.  _"I’ve got you,"_ she whispers, because anything more will break her.

Anna's delirious, mumbling about snowmen and reindeers and “Weren't you smaller?”

_Oh god, what did they do to you,_  Elsa thinks.

“Of course not,” she manages to say instead, “I’m the older one, remember? I’m supposed to be bigger than you.”

It is war, but Anna is by her side and Elsa can slip in front with a shield and for a while, things are as they should be. But Elsa should have known that such times do not last, especially for them.

Anna falls and Elsa does not catch her.

And now, on this stretch of concrete, Elsa is the one falling. Her grip slips. Her knees buckle.

They put the winter into Anna too, and made a soldier out of her. It stops Elsa cold. She hasn’t felt cold since that operating room back in ‘43. But here, nightmares she couldn’t have fathomed into existence, are staring her right in the face and its eyes are empty and hard.

There is no twinkle, no spark of….anything. Anna looks….dead.

"Who the hell is Anna."


	5. In the Past, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by RowanWould.

At first, Anna had started searching every Recruitment center she knew Elsa had been to. Then she’d mentally smacked herself and remembered the reason why her sister went to a new one each time. So instead she’d started looking around other offices, the ones with addresses she hadn’t seen typed up in the brown paper folders that were quietly piling up in a corner of Elsa’s room.

Anna hadn’t been prepared for just how big the pile had gotten since last she’d checked.

Coming up on the fourth door in a row, she heard raised voices. From outside, not in, and one of them sounded very familiar. Anna groaned and started heading in the direction she’d heard them. She wasn’t surprised. For a long while, this had been how she’d usually found Elsa.

When they were young, Anna had idolised Elsa, as all little sisters should. Ok, so her sister had spent a lot of their childhood stuck in their shared room, sick with one thing or another, while Anna had been outside playing, but that just made it all the more special when Anna returned to their room, or when Elsa herself had the strength to seek her sister out. Which she did! Quite often really (just not as often as Anna would have liked but it was okay). And when Elsa sometimes wasn’t able to keep up with all the adventures Anna would drag her along on, Anna would sit and stay with her instead and Elsa would create an adventure for her right there. Their stories almost always involved ferocious blizzards or unassailable icy cliffs for the heroes to face.

When an older kid had started picking on Anna at school, Elsa had been there in an instant to stand in front of her, to defend her. She’d spent a whole week in bed after that, but Anna had never loved her more, sticking to her like a shadow for months. Elsa had pretended to be annoyed by her constant presence but Anna knew she’d really loved it.

And so Anna had grown up believing Elsa was capable of anything. It may take her a bit longer than other people to get there, but that didn’t matter because her sister was so strong inside, where it did matter, that it seemed impossible for her to fail at any task she might set her mind to.

But one day, not any day in particular as far as Anna could remember, Elsa’s smiles started getting gradually smaller, and appeared not as often as it seemed they should. There was less teasing, less talking, less fun. It was like Elsa had put up a wall between them, even within the room they shared.

She started getting into more fights as well. Anna would hear shouts across the playground or down the street, and there Elsa would be. Anna always tried to help as best she could but afterward Elsa, even beaten and bruised, would just push her away again.

For years, Anna tried to reach out to her sister, trying to find out what went wrong, what she’d done wrong, and fix their broken friendship. She’d make sure Elsa knew exactly how much she was trying as well. But sometimes it became just too much, and Anna came so close to giving up on this mysterious closed off figure her sister had become. She might have eventually, if not for the death of their parents.


	6. Arlington: Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Chapter 1

  
_Left right left right left right left right left right_

 

It's still early morning. Dawn is slowly blurring into focus and DC is quiet; its Elsa's favorite time of day. The world is still, streets are mostly deserted, and everyone is sleeping, just like she used to. Like she still feels she is sometimes.

Like she wishes she still was.

 

_leftright leftright leftright leftright leftright leftright_

 

There was only the rhythm when she ran- leftright leftright- and breathing. But the serum made it so she wouldn't even be out of breath. So she ran harder to make it hurt. For a few empty minutes, she made her body busy, concentrated on running harder - _faster_ \- pushing herself to the limit so that for a few empty minutes at a time, she didn't have space to think. It was her only way out.

But eventually even _her_ lungs will burn, and for just a few seconds, she can be who she was from Before, and her body feels right.

_"Is it permanent?"_

 

_leftrightleftrightleftrightleftrightleftrightleftright_

 

It's like Basic, almost.

You can take the girl out of the military but you can't take the military out of the girl. Not when its all she has left.

So she sticks to the things she knows, the only things that feel familiar these days: 0500 wake up, bed tucked tight, out in 15 for a morning run and calisthenics.

The structure of the schedule keeps her together; she'd fall apart without it.

Except this time she's not falling behind. She thinks of flag poles and the barest hint of Peggy's red lips pulling into a smirk.

And runs faster.

  
_leftrightleftirightleftrigtleftrightleftirightleftrigtleftrightleftirightleftright_

 

There's no pack on Elsa's shoulders, no shield on her arm; she feels too light. Like she could float away at any time if it weren't for the things weighing her down.

In another world, Elsa thinks she would have been good at running away. Except now she doesn't have anywhere to run _to_ , so instead she just...runs.

She always starts before dawn. Some is old army habit, but its mostly to chase the dawn. It hurts every time, but Elsa always watches the sky come awake. One of them has to.

_She always loved sunrise._

The 5k's turned into 10, then 20. She's hitting 30 these days and is halfway through counting the bricks that line the Mall Reflecting Pool. It's harder to find the burn.

It's too easy out here, too flat. She wasn't built for this kind of climate.

Tomorrow she'll go back to the ice. She needs an incline. Thinner air might help, too.

She's always cold these days, anyway.

 

 

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Chiralities: S-Side](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1582751) by [Counterpunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Counterpunch/pseuds/Counterpunch), [redonthefly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redonthefly/pseuds/redonthefly), [RowanWould](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanWould/pseuds/RowanWould), [theseerasures](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseerasures/pseuds/theseerasures), [ultranos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultranos/pseuds/ultranos), [whisperwhisk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperwhisk/pseuds/whisperwhisk)




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